


Seriously

by LeoArcana



Series: Prompts [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Love Confessions, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-29
Updated: 2014-05-29
Packaged: 2018-01-27 02:40:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1711952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeoArcana/pseuds/LeoArcana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It had taken the better part of three months before Dean had finally begun to settle back down and start feeling like himself again.  Of course, he still had his bouts of self-loathing and considerations running off.  But Sam and Cas had gotten much better at detecting these moods, no matter how much Dean tried to hide them, and had also gotten better at talking him out of it.  Today was one of those days.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Seriously

It had taken the better part of three months before Dean had finally begun to settle back down and start feeling like himself again.  Of course, he still had his bouts of self-loathing and considerations running off.  But Sam and Cas had gotten much better at detecting these moods, no matter how much Dean tried to hide them, and had also gotten better at talking him out of it. 

Today was one of those days.  Cas had been the one to notice the foul mood first and had spent at least an hour and a half talking to Dean before the hunter-turned-demon was at peace again.  Once he was sure he’d be alright, Cas had gone out to fetch supplies for the bunker.  In his absence, the bunker had fallen silent once more.  Sam had been researching in his room while Dean did…whatever he was doing.  _Or not doing_.  The thought had Sam shifting uncomfortably in his chair; with Dean in the bunker, it was rarely this quiet.  Not that he was out to make a lot of noise, but there was always some kind of background noise.  The kitchen being cleaned, boxes shuffling around, doors swinging shut, guns being taken apart and cleaned…always something. 

Sam waited a few minutes, expecting some sort of noise, but when none came, he closed his laptop and got up.   He walked down the corridors and up to the main hall; empty.  He went up another flight of stairs, to the library, and found Dean sitting quietly with his back turned to Sam.  Dean sat slouched forward, head propped up on one hand while the other idly played with something in front of him.  Sam let out a soft breath; it was one of the moods again already.  He straightened up and walked past all the books to the table Dean sat at.  He moved around the corner of the table, seeing the object Dean was playing with happened to be a bullet.  A few others lay discarded on the table beside Dean’s pistol.  Sam cleared his throat, roughly grabbing the chair across the table from Dean and moving it with enough noise to catch his attention.

Dean’s eyes snapped up in surprise; his pitch black eyes.  He inhaled a deep breath, curled his fingers around the bullet he’d been toying with and sat up straight.  Dean’s eyes flicked back to their original, human green color as he looked at Sam with an almost bored expression.

“Gotta say, that was a pretty quick turn around,” Sam tried, giving a forced laugh.

Dean shrugged, looking away.

“C’mon, something’s really gotta be bugging you now,” Sam prodded, “What is it?”

“Nothin’,” Dean muttered.

That was always his answer.  It was never anything, everything was always fine.  But anyone who so much as looked at him for a half second could see it was the biggest load of bullshit. 

“Dean, seriously,” Sam said.

“I don’t need two pep talks in one day, Sammy,” Dean bit.

“Obviously you do, otherwise you wouldn’t be sitting up here all quiet and sulking.”

“’m not sulking.”

“Are you shitting me right now, Dean?”

Dean huffed and shifted to lean back in his chair, crossing his arms and glowering at Sam.  Sam sat back, throwing a hand up with a sigh before refocusing on Dean.  His eyes had flicked back to black with discontent. 

“What did Cas say?” Sam asked.

“…Same thing as always,” Dean answered shortly.

“What’s wrong with that?  It usually puts you in a way better mood.”

“I dunno, Sam, everything?  You guys have been telling me the same damn thing for months now and it’s getting’ pretty fuckin’ old.”

Sam studied Dean’s face for a minute.  Dean clenched his jaw and turned away from Sam to glare at a book shelf. 

“So, was it something…he didn’t say?” Sam guessed.

He taught the subtle tense in his brother’s body as he swallowed thickly, but refused to acknowledge him.  Sam rubbed his hands down his face; that was _exactly_ it.  He sighed and watched Dean for a minute before deciding what to say.

“I can’t believe after, what, almost five years?  You two are still playing this game…”

“What game?” Dean snipped.

“This— this junior high school crush game.”

“ _What_?” Dean barked.

“Don’t even, Dean,” Sam shook his head, “Anyone with eyes can see the way you two stare at each other.”

Dean’s lip twitched in a snarl as he bristled.

“I just don’t get why you’re so adamant about denying it,” Sam continued.

“Because there’s nothing there,” Dean grumbled.

“Dude, you are so adamant about it, there is no way ‘there’s nothing there’,” Sam mimicked, “If there really was nothing, you wouldn’t be sitting here getting all pissy.”

“Sam—“

“No, I’m not even kidding.  You guys are the worst at hiding your feelings for each other.  Everyone can see it.  Balthazar, Crowley, Meg, Kevin, Gabriel…Hell, I bet even Garth knew.  And there’s just one thing I’m pretty sure we all wanted to know.”

Dean narrowed his eyes at Sam.

“Why can’t you guys just deal with it?  Worse things have happened.”

“Worse things could happen,” Dean grumbled.

“Like what?”

“I dunno, maybe like he could die?  Because that seems to be pretty common thing for people I care about,” Dean snipped.

“Where have you been?” Sam laughed, “He _has_ died, a few times.”

Dean bristled and shot him a jaded look, opening his mouth argue.  Sam held up a hand to silence him and leaned forward to continue.

“I know what you’re gonna say.  ’It’s my fault he died’ or ‘It’s because he was too close’ or ‘I’m poison’ or something, right?  Dean, in case you haven’t realized, Cas made all those choices,” Sam started, “To protect you.  Because he cares about you.  He would go to— _has_ gone to the ends of the earth for you.”

Dean worked his mouth a few times, trying to come up with an argument against it.  Sam let a smile tug at his lips, thinking he’d already won the argument. 

“Alright, fine,” Dean conceded, “Maybe he _did_ care, but now what, huh?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, he’s a ticking angel time bomb and I’m— a fucking demon now.”

“Oh my god,” Sam groaned, burying his face into his hands, “Are you joking?”

Dean’s expression didn’t change.

“Okay, one, obviously Cas doesn’t really care if you’re a demon or not.  He did have a thing with Meg, remember?” Sam reminded him, “Two, that’s all the more reason you guys need to just get all this out there.  Do you really want him to snuff out without getting a chance to say anything?”

“…No, but—“

Dean was cut off by the sound of the front door swinging open and rustling bags.  Both of them glanced towards the front door, already knowing who it was.  Sam turned back to Dean, with a half formed plan in his head already, and ignored the suspicious look in Dean’s still black eyes.

“Now’s your chance,” Sam shrugged.

He pushed himself up from the table and started for the front door.  It took Dean a moment to process what he was doing, but by the time he realized it, he could already hear Sam talking to Cas.

“Hey, Cas, don’t worry about the bags,” Sam said, “I’ll take ‘em, Dean needs to talk to you.  He’s in the library.”

“Oh, um, thank you, Sam,” Cas nodded, “There are several more in the car.”

Sam took the bags Cas had and disappeared off to wherever they needed to go.  Dean felt the color drain from his face at the sound of approaching footsteps.  He shoved his chair back as he stood up quickly, fully intent on running from the situation.  But Cas had already seen and was walking a little faster with concern tracing his face.

“Dean?” Cas spoke, “Sam said there was something you wanted to tell me?

Dean closed his eyes, mentally cursing and forcing the black to recede.

“Is everything alright?  You seem greatly bothered by something.”

“Yeah, no, everything is just…peachy,” Dean replied, “It’s just, uh…”

“You’re uncomfortable,” Cas noted.

Dean raised his brow, nodding with a spiteful smile and giving an annoyed glare past Cas.

“It’s nothing, wasn’t really plannin’ on telling you anything,” Dean shrugged, “Not like this, anyway.  But, little brothers, y’know?”

“I’m not so sure I do,” Cas replied slowly, “The sibling relationships amongst angels are quite different than humans, except for maybe the tendency to prank one and other.”

Dean shook his head, knowing Cas meant Gabriel specifically.  He absent-mindedly licked his lips and bit the lower one as he looked away, trying to figure out what he was going to say or how he was going to convincingly get out of the situation.  However, Cas misread the expression on Dean’s face.

“You’re not going to tell me I need to leave again, are you?” Cas asked softly.

“What?  No.  God, no,” Dean replied quickly, “I never wanted to do that in the first place, but Gadreel didn’t leave much of a choice.”

“Then what is it you wanted to tell me?”

“I mean, I was, uh, thinkin’ about maybe telling you one day.  B-but having Sam back me into a corner like this wasn’t really part of the plan—“

Dean stopped his rambling when he glanced up to see Cas only about a foot away from him.  He clamped his mouth shut, staring at him and resisting the urge to flash black eyes at him in warning.

“Dean, this would be much easier if you simply told me what’s bothering you.  After all we have gone through, I would think you’d know I can handle anything.  And if Sam has had to ‘back you into a corner’, then it must be important.”

“Cas.”

“Yes?”

“How many times do I have to remind you about personal space?” Dean asked.

Cas froze, then ducked his head in apology and took a step back to restore some of Dean’s personal space.  He lifted his head again and looked at Dean with expectation.  Any hope Dean had had at getting out of the situation, unless an emergency arose, had fled and left him with an icy-hot feeling swirling inside.  He took in a deep, calming breath and told himself to just suck it up.  He was a thirty-six year old man— _demon_ , his mind corrected, who had dealt with far more terrifying things.

“I’m still confused as to what this is about,” Cas said, “Clearly this issue is a great bother to you, why could Sam not tell me himself?”

“Because it has nothing to do with him and is really none of his business,” Dean glared in the general direction Sam had gone, “But, um…y’know that whole ‘profound bond’ thing?”

“Yes, of course I do.  That was part of the reason I knew Metatron was wrong when he told me you were dead,” Cas replied, “That and because I also knew the whole story of Cain.  But, despite what the mark has done to you, you are still you, Dean.  Is that what this is about?”

“Not— not exactly.  It’s a big part of it, yeah, but I mean… _shit_ ,” Dean cursed under his breath, “Y-you never cared that Meg was a demon, right?”

At that, Cas began to piece together what was going on.  He relaxed, knowing no one was in danger, and leaned against the table.

“No, I didn’t.  Her situation couldn’t be helped, but I did care for her very much and I feel I would have regardless of what species she was,” Cas glanced up at Dean, “I do not care what you are either, Dean.  You’re— you’re my best friend.”

“Best friend, huh?” Dean forced a laugh, “Never thought I’d get friendzoned.”

Cas furrowed his brows.

“I’ve overheard that said several times, but I still don’t fully understand it,” Cas said, “Is it a place or a status?  And why does it sound like a bad thing?”

“It’s not important, Cas,” Dean sighed, “It’s just that I, uh…w-when I said we’re family, I meant that you— you’re…you’re just as important to me as Sam, but in a different way.  I meant that I…that I need you…Because I, uh…”

Cas straightened up and fixed his eyes on the now fidgeting hunter in front of him.

“Dean,” Cas pressed lowly, “You what?”

Dean continued fidgeting, bring up the hand holding the bullet and started twirling it over in his fingers and stared at the ground like it was now suddenly the most interesting thing on the planet.   Dean took in a ragged breath and paused his fidgeting for a heartbeat.

“Love you,” Dean edged out in a barely audible murmur.

A heavy silence fell over not only the library, but the entire bunker.  Everything became so quiet, the silence itself was almost deafening.  Cas took a half step closer to Dean, dipping his head to try and catch his eye.  But Dean kept his gaze firmly fixed on the ground and pressed his fingers white against the bullet.

“Dean Winchester,” Cas said sternly.

Cas caught the twitch of muscle in his arm at his name.

“Look at me.”

Dean swallowed nervously, but refused to look up.  Cas closed the distance between them and raised his hand to Dean’s chin, forcing him to look up.  Still, Dean kept his eyes downcast to the side of Cas.  They’d gone back to black, probably in some sort of attempt to hide his emotions. 

“As quietly as you tried to say that,” Cas started, “I still heard it.”

He felt a nervous tremor run through Dean.  His eyes darted up, only daring to meet with Cas’ a few times before returning to the floor.  A small smile played at Cas’ face as he studied Dean with a softening gaze.  Cas’ hand dropped to the side of Dean’s neck and rubbed a thumb across the stubble of his jaw.

“I love you, too.”

Dean’s entire body went rigid.  Almost robotically, Dean met Cas’ gaze and the black disappeared with an awestruck blink.

“You…what?” Dean breathed.

Cas smiled fondly, lowering his hand again to rest over the hand-print scar had been and brought the other up to Dean’s other shoulder.

“I am in love with you too, Dean,” Cas stated, “And I have been for a very long time.”

Dean lets out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding.  A faltering smile danced across Dean’s face as he stared in disbelief at the angel, trying to discern if this was a joke or a cruel dream.  Dean’s knees finally buckled and he collapsed back into his chair, staring up at Cas.

“S-seriously?” Dean laughs breathlessly, “That’s…that’s great.  Best damn thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Yes, seriously,” Cas nods.


End file.
